Where Am I Again?
by kchan2982
Summary: Leslee, a girl from 1999, is obsessed with Tolkien's works. But what happens when she wakes up to find herself in post-fellowship middle-earth with a guy who claims to be Legolas? Will she really forget her old life for this dream come true? very OOC!
1. Who Are You?

Disclaimer: no, my name is not Tolkien, and middle-earth isn't mine.  
  
Chapter uno: Who Are You?  
  
Leslee Denem was doing the dishes on a warm summer evening. She had not particularly liked the dinner her mom had made, though she contributed that to her cold she was still getting over, so she finished quickly, not taking her time like she normally liked to do, and stuffed a few cereal bars and a soda in her back pack which she thankfully had left downstairs when her best friend Robert had come over that afternoon. She silently slipped down the hallway and up the stairs, being careful not to catch the eye of her mother who was playing the piano furiously in attempt to learn the piece that she needed to be able to play at a choir competition the next day. Leslee didn't like that her mom worked at Centennial, her school's biggest rival, but at the moment it was distracting her from seeing her sneak food up to her bedroom. 'The home stretch,' she thought as she neared the top of the stairs and turned into the upstairs hallway. She realized that she needed to use the bathroom, which was across the hall from her door, but worried that the stolen goodies might be found out if she didn't put them away first. 'If I can just get my backpack into my-'  
  
But she was cut off by a sharp feeling in her back. It knocked the wind out of her and she gave a strangled gasp of surprise and pain. It felt like someone had sunk a dagger between her shoulder blades, and she could almost feel the blood running down her back. She was confused at the feeling, but didn't have much time to think about it as she fell forward. Her vision dimmed, and she was vaguely aware that her knees had not hit the cotton carpet of her room, but the leaf carpet of a forest, just before she lost consciousness.  
  
She awoke to find a strange man standing over her. "Damn," she heard him say. He was glaring at her. She was slightly hurt at the way he had cursed at her, but the throbbing in her head and back wouldn't let her think clearly. "What's going on?" she tried to ask, but all that came out was a bloody bubble that popped and splattered all over her face. She thought she was going to be sick, but she forced it down when she found that the man's foot on her stomach wouldn't let her roll over, and she didn't feel like drowning in her own puke at the moment. "Disgusting wench," the man muttered and lifted his sleeve to roughly wipe the blood from her cheeks. She didn't like the feeling of this guy and tried to turn away from him, but his other hand held her firmly in place. Her head was whirling in confusion, but her voice wasn't working in the least, so she could not voice her questions.  
  
"You were supposed to die, but I guess I underestimated your strength, so you'll just have to come with me," he stated in a low growl. He seemed thoroughly annoyed that she even dared breathe in his presence when he wanted her dead. He grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position. She clenched her teeth and hissed in pain at the sudden movement, but realized that it wasn't from her back where she remembered being stabbed by lord knows what, but from her shoulders where she had gotten a bad sunburn from her swim class earlier that day –if was even the same day. She didn't know how long she'd been out, and went to look at her watch, only to find that her hands were bound behind her back, as well as her knees. He looked down at her. "What's wrong with you?" he asked indignantly. She looked back, then turned her head in defiance as if to say that the pain he'd inflicted was nothing. He knelt down from his standing position, and slipped a hand under her black short-sleeved vest, and slid it off her shoulder to reveal the straps of her white cami shirt and bra, which contrasted with the redness of her burnt flesh.  
  
"What are you doing?" she managed to say hoarsely as she looked at him in horror.  
  
"What in Middle-Earth is wrong with your skin?" he asked, almost fascinated with it. His hand lightly cupped her shoulder, feeling the warmth that still insisted on radiating from the spot. She looked down at the hand, and shivered at his touch. She didn't know why though, but she didn't really think about it. She had caught the expression he used to ask about the burn.  
  
"It's called a sunburn. Surely you have heard of one? Or maybe you're too enthused with your Lord of the Rings book to know much about the real world," she said rather bitterly, but was glad that her voice was coming back to her. She should have been happy to know that they shared a common obsession, but she quickly reminded herself how rough he had been with her a few moments ago, and her anger was rekindled.  
  
The man blinked, and narrowed his eyes in suspicion at her. He spat something at her in another language, drawing his sword, and putting it to her gut. She gasped as he took her throat in his free hand. Tears started to well up in her eyes in frustration and confusion, and they were dangerously close to spilling over. "Who sent you?" he asked, anger ringing in his voice. Her heart was caught in her throat, and she found that she could barely breathe, let alone speak. "Answer me!" he yelled as he shook her slightly. The tears began to run, fleeing from the sight her eyes were showing her, and she wished that she could run too. She didn't understand why he was so upset with her, but was thankful that he released her when she began to cry.  
  
"Heh..." he smirked, "I thought too highly of you. You're far to weak to be a spy."  
  
"Weak?" she croaked," If you hadn't snuck up on me and bound my hands, I would have kicked the crap out of you, you sneaky bastard!" She glared at him, "but I am no spy. I can't believe you'd even think that. Pig..."  
  
He got control of his emotions and regained most of his composure. He was still steaming, but the lost look in her eyes told him that she had not a clue why he'd attacked her. Why had his father wanted her anyways? He leaned down to her face, looking deep into her eyes and almost laughed at the look she was giving him. She looked like a lost puppy. She was pretty, for a human, with thick, wavy blonde hair that had fallen out of the tie it was in, flowing down her back like a golden river, and a few strands in her face. He went to move them behind her curved ear, but she flinched at his quick and fluid movements. "SShh..." he tried to calm her. He slid them back and out of her eyes, and wiped her tears with his thumb. He noticed that he could see himself reflected in her deep green-blue eyes.  
  
She knew that he was looking her over so she looked him over as well. He had long straight blonde hair that stayed neatly behind his sturdy shoulders. He had ice blue eyes and flawless skin and lips. She finally realized that he was leaning closer, and she blinked. He stopped at this as he figured out what was happening. "Forgive me," he whispered and stood up. He helped her to her feet, and undid the bindings on her knees so that she could walk. He took her elbow and led her to a cave on a hillside. There was a small fire in the entrance and he sat her by it. She crossed her legs and looked around. There wasn't much, just a bed mat, a crude kind of mesh kit, a cloak, and-  
  
"My backpack," she whispered.  
  
"Yes, but don't worry. I was going to wait until after you were dead to go through it. But I guess it will be easier this way."  
  
"So that's why you cursed. You really did want me dead."  
  
"No," he corrected, "my father wants you dead, but will be glad enough to see you alive, so long as you are captured."  
  
"Who wants me dead?" she asked confused. What had she done to make someone want to kill her?  
  
"The king of Mirkwood," he stated simply. She started to laugh at him and he turned to face her.  
  
"Right, and I'm the elf queen of Gondor!"  
  
He cocked his head at her. "You don't believe me?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because, Greenleaf, if that is your name, then we must be where? Amon Hen? There is no such place."  
  
"So you are imagining the hills around us?"  
  
"No, we're simply not in Middle-earth."  
  
"Well, we are not in the Grey Havens, so where else would we be?"  
  
"I don't know; I'm the one that has been unconscious for lord knows how long. You tell me."  
  
"We are on Amon Hen."  
  
"Oh yeah, then where's the rest of the fellowship, hmm?"  
  
"The fellowship has been over for a century now. I was just coming from Gondor, from visiting with King Elessar."  
  
"Liar."  
  
"I never lie."  
  
"Liar."  
  
He chuckled to himself.  
  
"So really, who are you?"  
  
"I am Legolas of Mirkwood."  
  
She rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, really!"  
  
"If you are so eager to know my name, then why don't you tell me yours?"  
  
She gawked at him. "You mean to tell me that you tried to kill me when you didn't even know my name?!? How do you know I'm the one you want?!?"  
  
"Because," he said calmly, tending to the fire all the while he spoke, "you were described to me, and besides, how many young human women are running around Amon Hen?"  
  
"I wasn't 'running around Amon Hen,' Baka! Idiot I was in my hallway at home!"  
  
He ignored her comment, "Well, what would you have me call you?"  
  
She thought for a moment, hoping to trick him. "Hmm...I dunno, how about...Melathronin?"  
  
"M-Melathronin?" he stuttered, but quickly gained control of his voice. He laughed a little, "You are trying to find me out, aren't you? Well, I am who I say, whether you believe me or not. Now, what shall I call you, because last I checked, you were my prey, not my lover."  
  
"Prey? Oh, so I'm an animal now, am I? Call me gazelle then, for that is all I am to you."  
  
"Well, I know not what a gazelle is, so I will have to call you something else."  
  
"It's what a lion hunts."  
  
"Lion?"  
  
"A really big cat."  
  
"You're calling me a cat?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, I am. All you need is the tail and the ears."  
  
"Well, I already have the ears. Almost," he said with a smirk. She was really quite amusing, even if she was trying to insult him.  
  
She looked up at him and gasped as she saw that his ears were indeed pointed. So he really was an elf!  
  
He came around to her and put his hand under her chin to gently close her mouth that had been hanging open. "It's not good to stare."  
  
"How is this- how is this possible?" she wanted to reach out and touch them, but since her hands were bound, she sat up on her knees, inspecting them closely. She didn't realize how close their bodies were as her eyes drank them in. "How odd," she whispered, completely enthused. But the sound of his voice brought her back to reality.  
  
"Milady?"  
  
"Huh?" she asked as she leaned far enough away so as to look at him.  
  
"You've never seen an elf before, have you?" He noticed that her eyes were a little unfocused.  
  
"Did you just call me lady?" she asked incredulously as she shook her head and sat back on her calves, almost falling over in the process. "Don't call me that. I'm far from being royal."  
  
"Well, I could tell that by your clothes," he said indicating her garb. She had to admit; she didn't look very prestigious in her now dirty black pants, sandals and vest, and white cami. "But I still don't know what to call you."  
  
"Anything but 'milady'. I really don't care."  
  
"How about...Rastenmenla?"  
  
"Rastenmenla? That's pretty long."  
  
"It means 'fallen angel.'"  
  
"That's a little off, but okay. I guess you can call me Menla for short."  
  
"Alright, Menla, tell me something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why won't you give me your name?"  
  
"Because if I escape then you can't ask around for me. Why do you insist on tying my hands, anyways?"  
  
"For that precise reason. My father will have my head if I don't bring you back."  
  
"Now that I believe. Not that I care, but then again, who would?" He glared at her, and she laughed at the fuming anger in his eyes. She knew she'd struck home.  
  
"Well then, I don't see anyone looking for you, or calling your name, and it's been three days since I sent that arrow through your heart!"  
  
She blinked, not expecting such an onslaught, but quickly recovered. She gave him a "Feh" and turned her head.  
  
"If you even have a heart," he muttered. She lay down on her side, her back to him.  
  
"I can love. It's not impossible you know."  
  
"And have you loved? Or is it just talk you speak of?"  
  
She rolled onto her stomach when her arm started to fall asleep. "Yeah, I have."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Nunya."  
  
"Nunya?"  
  
"Nunya business."  
  
"Hmp."  
  
"Don't 'Hmp' me."  
  
"I think you're lying."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Then who is it?"  
  
"Ulch! You don't even know the meaning of love!"  
  
"Enlighten me."  
  
"Pervert."  
  
"Slut."  
  
"EXCUSE ME?!?!?" She turned her head to glare at him, "You are not the Legolas I have read about if you would assume such a thing!"  
  
"So you haven't loved then?"  
  
"You're not talking about love, you're talking about lust. There's a big difference!"  
  
"Then what is love?"  
  
"Love is when you would get between someone and the bullet. There are quite a few people I can think of that I would do that for."  
  
"Bullet?"  
  
"Arrow."  
  
"That's not love, that's loyalty."  
  
"Then you tell me what love is, genius."  
  
He was silent for a while, and when he spoke, he had changed the topic. "We will be in Lothlorien by noon tomorrow, so I need to go through your things now."  
  
"You're serious? I thought you were joking."  
  
"I'm not, so please cooperate and explain each thing when I take it out."  
  
"Why do you have to search it?"  
  
"One, to make sure that you carry no weapons, and two, wouldn't you rather me go through it now, and vouch for you, then have all of Lothlorien going through it?"  
  
"I hate it when you're right," she said, sitting up while he brought her backpack over to the fire. He unzipped the larger of the two zippers, and took out a composition notebook and a small spiral bound blue note book, and held them up for explanation. "That's my fanfic and quotes from my friends. There are a few short stories in the blue one too."  
  
"Fanfic?"  
  
"It's a spin off of the fellowship. I wrote what might happen if there were ten members, instead of nine."  
  
"I don't think I understand."  
  
"I added a character to your story. It's from the point of view of the only woman in the group."  
  
"You added a woman? That's unheard of." He was a little taken aback that she would write something like that. "And you call it a fanfic?"  
  
"Yeah, but I guess here it would be called screwing with history. Next item please." He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and brought out another notebook. "That's my sketch book. You'll mostly find anime stuff in there. It's a way of drawing," she added at his look of confusion, "Next." He took out two more composition notebooks, one green, one black. "The black one is just randomness. I have all sorts of things in there, stories, notes, song lyrics. I think I might even have a drawing of Inu Yasha near the middle." He flipped to the middle and sure enough, there was a drawing of the awesome dog demon. "And the green one is my math notebook, though I have a lot of drawings in there too. You'd be surprised how many jokes you can make out of geometry." He was utterly lost as he flipped through the pages, so he put it down and moved to the next thing. He pulled out a small book this time, with a couple on the cover. "That's my Romeo and Juliet book. We're studying it in my English class." He found that the large section of the backpack was empty, so he unzipped the smaller one. He took out the soda can and held it up. "That would be a drink, though I doubt you would like it. The carbonation might be a bit too much for your stomach to handle." He put it down, the building confusion getting quite frustrating. He took out the two cereal bars. "That's breakfast to go. They're really good, especially when you don't have much time to eat." He brought out a packet of gum, "That's what you use when you don't have time to brush your teeth," and a pile of pens, "The equivalent of your quills, I guess. You use them to write with." He put everything back into the backpack, and sat there for a moment, staring into the fire, deep in thought.  
  
"You're not from around here, are you?" he finally asked, not looking up at her.  
  
"No crap, Sherlock," she said sarcastically, "You really think I could have gotten all that stuff in Middle-earth? That's why I didn't believe you when you said we were on Amon Hen. To my people, that place doesn't exist. It's just a fairy tale." He looked up at her. "To us, Legolas is just some elf in a fictional book that every girl in their right mind would want to meet. But no one has, because he's unreal. Just a figment of our imagination."  
  
He couldn't really think of what to say to this. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. He shook his head, as if to say the idea was preposterous.  
  
"But if you are Legolas, and we really are on Amon Hen, then I'm glad I'm here with you. It's better than what I have to deal with back home. I don't exactly get along with my family."  
  
He allowed himself a grin, even though he was far from understanding. "We share something then, for I don't exactly get along with my father either. I simply do his biddings now to avoid confrontation, though even that doesn't always work."  
  
"I know what you mean. I can never please my parents. They always want more. I could be perfect and they'd still find something wrong with me."  
  
"My father as well. He would probably say that I thought too highly of myself, if I were perfect."  
  
"Or that I make them look stupid when they stand next to me," she laughed, and he did as well.  
  
"It seems that we are both running, doesn't it? We are both longing for escape."  
  
"I think I've found mine. That is, if I don't go home. If I do, I'll right back to square one. They'll most likely say that I ran away, and won't let me out of the house again."  
  
"You may stay as long as you like. I will not send you back to such a place."  
  
"Yet you take me to my death," she said with a sly grin. "Well I would go willingly, if it meant not having to go back. They probably think me dead anyways."  
  
He was surprised at this comment, and remembered that if she did stay, that she would surely die, and most likely by his own hands. He would not put it past his father to force him to do his father's dirty work. She yawned and stretched as best she could with her hands still tied.  
  
"Well, I think I should go to sleep. I want to leave bright and early for Lothlorien." And with that she lay back down and slept.  
  
A/n: man is Legolas out of character! But we still love him! Hugs him so tight his face goes blue anyways, this is going to be kind of odd, and there will probably be a few more long dialogue thingies, like this chapter, but it will be a short story, and as of right now, I have absolutely no idea where it's going, so if you've got any ideas please send them in reviews. Hope you like it! (At least I'm having fun, right?) 


	2. Cold Morning

Disclaimer: Legolas: (enters readers' view and stands there sheepishly, then looks off screen) do I have to?  
  
Kchan: yes, now hurry up, they're waiting.  
  
Legolas: (sighs and looks up at readers) kchan does not own me, the pretty elf boy, or any of Tolkien's work. (runs back off screen and readers hear gurgling noises, then comes back on screen)  
  
Kchan: what were you doing?  
  
Legolas: I was washing my mouth out with soap.  
  
Kchan: it wasn't that bad.  
  
Legolas: can we start already? I thought you said they were waiting.  
  
Kchan: alright, alright! Here's chapter two!  
  
Leslee opened her eyes to see the glowing embers of the dying fire. It wasn't dawn yet, but she sat up anyways. She had zero period band, and was used to getting up at ungodly hours. She saw Legolas lying on his back, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the stalactites (those are the ones hanging down, right?) as if enthused with them. She thought he was daydreaming at first, but then remembered that elves sleep with their eyes open. Her wrists were sore from sleeping with the rope still binding her hands, but decided not to complain. She found a sharp rock and made quick work of the ties. She rubbed her wrists, and stretched, marveling in the fact that she'd gotten them off without waking him. She knew it would be stupid to run from an elf, let alone this one, so she thought she'd surprise him, and get the fire going, and maybe breakfast. She found some wood by the entrance, and set them in with the embers. She went out again, and got some kindling. The logs had just caught fire when he began to stir. She got out his mesh kit, and handed it to him as he sat up. He took it from her slowly, somewhat still asleep. The gray morning light started to find it's way to them, and he fully shook the dream that had still been occupying his mind. "You can either make breakfast, or we can have my cereal bars, but I think we should get going soon. I'm not the most patient person, and I'd like to get out of here."  
  
He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. "You undid the bindings, yet you're still here?" he asked as he stood up. He put a hand on her forehead, "Are feeling all right?"  
  
"No, my bloody arms are killing me, but that's besides the point. Are you going to make breakfast or not?"  
  
"Why didn't you run?"  
  
"Look Mr. Elf, just cause I'm blonde, doesn't mean I'm stupid. You would have chased me down and never trusted me again if I did, and I really don't want to go all the way to Mirkwood with my hands bound."  
  
"You're smarter than you look," he said surprised.  
  
She glared at him, "You're confidence in me is over whelming." She took the hand from its perch on her head, and went to go get her backpack, but stopped when he didn't let go of her hand. She froze, her back to him in mid step, their linked hands, the only things keeping her balanced. She didn't get what he was doing, until he came around to face her, still holding her hand.  
  
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly.  
  
"No, you meant to kill me." (Ooh, that was cold ;P)  
  
"Menla, please," he begged, holding onto her hand as she tried to move away.  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
He was silent. He didn't know why he was doing this, or even what he meant by it, but he had a feeling she knew, even if he didn't.  
  
"I thought I was your prey, not your lover." (More coldness)  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"You tell me."  
  
He stepped closer. "I don't know, but I'm willing to find out."  
  
"I don't know, but I don't think I'm willing to let you play with me before I die." (Doesn't get much colder then that.)  
  
"Who said I'd be playing with you? I don't know about you, but I'm being completely serious about this." He took yet another step, and put his free hand on her hip. She tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Why are you fighting this so much?"  
  
"Because I value my virginity!" (Reaching subzero temperatures here.)  
  
"Who said anything about your virginity?" (People, applaud the brave elf, he is still trying!)  
  
"Well that's what a lover is, isn't it? Some piece of flesh you're too scared to marry?"(Are we in Antarctica, or is it just me?)  
  
"Menla...I've never loved before. You said it your self: I know nothing about love. I don't know what this feeling is, but I want to figure it out before I do something I'll regret."  
  
"Well what you're trying isn't a great way to do that." (Coming up on negative one-eighty here.)  
  
"Please, Menla. I meant bringing you to your death..." (He's so pathetic, I think I might cry).  
  
"Well, I think I'd rather die then take a chance at a one night stand." (An ice cube is looking downright warm right now.)  
  
"Kiss me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Kiss me. That's all I ask."  
  
Dun dun dun!!  
  
Oh Man am I mean to my characters! That was just torture! But I'm cruel and heartless (at least that's what my little brother tells me) so yeah. But don't worry! It gets better, I promise!! Just keep reading! Don't hurt me! (runs and hides behind Legolas)  
  
Legolas: (steps aside) have at her, evil fangirls, just leave me alone.  
  
Kchan: that was cold.  
  
Legolas: hey, you're the writer. Don't go telling me I'm cold. (storms out leaving fangirls glaring at the helpless author)  
  
Kchan: even my own characters turn on me. I guess I better be nicer...(looks at mob of fangirls) and run! 


	3. Warm Morning

Disclaimer: I would get Legolas to help me, but he's still mad about the last chapter, so I'm on my own. (takes deep breath and sighs) I don't own lotr, and if I did, Legolas would kill me. There. Have at me. (Legolas throws rock at her from off screen.)  
  
"A kiss?" Leslee asked incredulously. (Don't forget that's her real name.)  
  
Legolas didn't move.  
  
"I-I guess...where's the harm- I..." she stuttered. He still didn't move, so she leaned forward. Her lips brushed his, yet he still refused to participate. She deepened the kiss ever so slightly to let him know that she was really kissing him, not just standing there with their lips touching. He got the message and kissed back, leaning forward while doing so. She realized that she liked the taste of him, and put her free hand on his neck, as if afraid that he would disappear on her. He deepened it further, and her head spun.  
  
The next thing she knew, he had her against the wall of the cave. She knew he'd finally lost control, but at the moment she didn't care. The sensation of his body against hers was just too delicious for her to go without.  
  
But the hand on her hip moved to her abdomen and started to undo the button of her pants. She grabbed his hand, and parted their lips. "We should get going," she whispered, too out of breath to say it any louder. He nodded, and started to step back, but she immediately felt like something was missing, and leaned against him, capturing his lips once more. They continued kissing for quite some time, and she was surprised when it was Legolas that broke the contact first.  
  
"We really need to get going." He backed away from her, and put out the fire. He put his things together, and went to hand her the backpack. She didn't move. "What is the matter?" he asked cautiously.  
  
"Was that love or lust?"  
  
"For me...it was love." He walked out of the cave and onto the hillside.  
  
"Me too," she whispered. He heard her, and smiled to himself.  
  
See?!?!?!?! What'd I tell you?!?!?!?! (Looks at Legolas) Happy now? (Legolas beams at her, then blushes) Stupid elf. What I do for love! (Steam starts coming out of ears) well, my head hurts. I'm going to bed. (posts chapter, then storms off. Legolas looks off screen in the direction she left in, and flinches when a door is slammed, then turns back to readers)  
  
Legolas: what are you looking at? The chapter is over for crying out loud! Go home! (notices mob of fangirls, shrieks, and runs off screen.) 


	4. A Walk In The Park, um, Woods

Yes people, I'm still alive. Legolas has yet to slit my throat in my sleep, though I can promise he's probably itching to do so. So yeah, have at it.  
  
Disclaimer: (Legolas comes out with a sly grin on his face) kchan-  
  
Kchan: ehem.  
  
Legolas: (rolls eyes) the kind and wonderful kchan, who swears she'll be nicer to me, and her other characters, does not own any of Tolkien's works so please don't sue her.  
  
Kchan: (slowly comes out to look at readers.) please don't hurt me! (hides behind Legolas...again.)  
  
Legolas: (shakes head and rolls eyes again) don't worry fangirls, we-er- chatted.  
  
Kchan: (sticks head out and nods profusely) yeah, so keep reading. Here's chapter four.  
  
They walked in silence all the way to Lothlorien. There wasn't much to be said, and both were a bit embarrassed by the situation.  
  
But as soon as Leslee (by the way, thanx In The Depp End, I appreciate the diff spellings. I made this one up just as a weird quirk kind of a thing, but yeah) entered the cover of the trees, a calming sensation came over her, and her mind felt less troubled. Her spirit felt lighter than it had in her entire life. She touched one of the trees on the side of the path, and couldn't help but giggle to herself. Legolas, who was a little ahead along the path, looked back at her and smiled. She noticed and gave him a big grin. "There aren't many forests back home, and none as beautiful as this one. It's even more wonderful than I imagined it would be."  
  
"I'm glad that you are enjoying this. You must have the soul of an elf deep within you if you can love the trees so much."  
  
"Yeah, well I'm afraid it's buried six feet under if it's in this human body of mine."  
  
And for the first time, it dawned on him: he had fallen in love (and quite quickly might I add) with not only his captive, but also a human nonetheless. His father would kill him!  
  
But the king of Mirkwood was the least of their problems at the moment. Legolas heard a twig snap; an almost inaudible sound to even his elven ears, but it was there just the same. He quickly took Menla by the arm, and drew his sword just as half a dozen archers jumped onto the path, surrounding them. He was about to explain themselves, and who they were, when Menla spoke.  
  
"Wait. We come in peace." (corny, I know, but the elves didn't get it so she's safe.) she took out a necklace that she had been wearing under her shirt and vest. Legolas almost gawked at her as she pulled out the Lothlorien leaf that was tied round her neck.  
  
The elves disbanded, bowed, and departed without question. Soon, Legolas and Leslee stood there as if the elves had never come upon them. She sighed happily as she slipped the leaf back under her vest, and tucked it under her shirt. She started walking again, quietly laughing to her self. "I told my parent that this would give safe passage through elven lands, and they thought I was crazy. Shows you how much they know."  
  
"Where did you get that?" asked Legolas incredulously.  
  
She turned back to look at him where he still stood unmoved. "I got it from a bookmark. The tassel broke, so I put it on a string." He still looked lost. "What? I'm obsessed. You don't have to tell me. Now come on, lets go."  
  
He nodded and followed in suit. There was silence again for a while. She noticed that he looked a little upset. She wanted to ask him what was troubling him, but she had a bad feeling that it had to do with her. She hesitated for a long time, all the while, the tension growing. Finally, she decided that it would help much more than it could hurt, and slipped her hand into his.  
  
There you have it! Chapter four! Now you can't bug me for a few days. I have yet another head ache (looks suspiciously at Legolas who in turn puts on one of those 'what are you looking at me for? I'm just an angel who wouldn't harm a flee' looks. The look of suspicion turns to a glare) but I won't name any names. I could just be being weird (it wouldn't be the first time) but maybe it's because of this death hold my French braid has on my head. I dunno, but it's late and I need sleep, especially since I have flute tomorrow and I haven't practiced at all. Ulch he's gonna kill me. But at least I'm getting yelled at by a cute, nineteen year old teacher, right? (crickets chirping) oh lord...someone save me. Goodnight. 


	5. Memories

Hey there readers! Me again! I hope you're not mad at me any more! Heh...Heh...well, any ways, I'd like to respond to a few reviews. Anrai, you are one of two people I've ever heard use the term pervertness instead of pervertedness, and I thought it was neat that you used it. Also, he will not stay a love-sick puppy (sounds more like my fave hanyou), does kick a# I agree, and I got the necklace from, yes you guessed it, myself (my parents really did think me insane too). And in response to YueMichiruNaragisawaMiko, he isn't a teenager in the least, though he may act it in my stories (uh, hello, naive 3000 year old elf is the equivalent of a teenager anyways) and- I don't know about the rest of you people out there, but- I thought only females could be in heat! You –you –you Legolas insulter! (besides, that also sounds a lot like Inu and Kag-chan. Can you tell I'm a little obsessed? Chah! Darn you Naro, and your corrupting ways!) So...on with the story!  
  
Disclaimer: (Legolas takes deep breath before singing) 'Welcome to Paco's tacos, And have a lot of fun! Welcome to Paco's tacos, And have some carne asada and wet burritos!'  
  
Kchan: er...Legolas...that wasn't the disclaimer.  
  
Legolas: (blushes crimson) oh...right...kchan doesn't own me or lotr. (runs off screen)  
  
Kchan: (shakes head and laughs) he's been hanging around Naro too much... silly elf!  
  
The two continued on into the wood, until eventually they came upon the Galadrim. Leslee was impressed by the structures that even Tolkien had been unable to do justice. They were met by a younger elf, who was not yet one thousand years old. He led them to a clearing, the one in fact that the fellowship had stayed in during their time in the golden forest. Leslee was so tired from walking (not to mention the day's earlier excitements) that she fell straight to sleep the moment her head hit the pillow of the bed she was given. Legolas, who had a much higher endurance rate, wasn't so tired, so he watched her sleep for a few minutes.  
  
He thought about everything that had happened the last few days. He remembered seeing her for the first time, his sense of duty so strong then. He had seen her trying to quietly run, as if to avoid someone's eye. He waited for her to get right in front of him as she ran past, but had not really expected her to turn her back to him at the same moment he let loose his arrow. He was mildly surprised that he had struck her from behind, but at that point he hadn't cared. His father had threatened to disown him, if he did not kill this girl, and Legolas didn't know what he would do if he were not allowed back within the borders of his home.  
  
He remembered the strangled gasp that had escaped her lips before she fell. It was as if she'd always known what deathly pain was, and the arrow had simply caught her by surprise, rather than the pain. He was still confused at this, yet he was afraid to ask her. He knew that in order to be familiar with pain, one had to have a painful past. When he first realized this, he hadn't cared, for this was simply his job, and he had to harden himself against feelings and passion for other life forms if he was to stay in favor of his father. Since that time, he had lost his barrier, his wall between himself and compassion. He didn't know what did it. Perhaps it was the tears in her eyes when he shook her, even though he was still pretending to be cold towards her after that.  
  
But what had made her live? He had checked the body, and sure enough, no breath, no pulse, not even a twitch of movement from the collapsed form. But the heat, the heat had not gone away. She never grew cold; Death had never come to claim her spirit, and it was still stubbornly residing in her corpse. So he waited. And waited. And waited, until three days had passed. Finally, he realized that she had started breathing again, and she stirred when her when he went to find her pulse. When she opened her eyes to look at him, he cursed, and it surprised him even now, the look in her eyes as she winced at his choice word. Her confusion radiated from her, just as heat had radiated from that curious wound of hers on her shoulder. It wrenched his heart, remembering how lost she'd seemed.  
  
But now his mind was exhausted of thinking, though his questions were still swirling in his head. He too was confused, but he could hide it better than Menla could. Menla...he looked down at her peaceful form. He didn't know what had made him love her. Perhaps it was guilt, or pity. No, he could have hardened himself beyond that. It was something else.  
  
Her passion. That was it. Her passion and defiance. She was not afraid of him, even after she knew who he was. Death did not scare her as it had scared him at her age, so many years ago. She had greeted her fate with arms wide open, not even giving a backward glance. She was so sure of herself, that she needn't be sure of anything else. She had argued with him, something only his father had ever done, really, except for that time on Amon Hen when he and Estel had argued about whether or not to leave, but Menla was different. He almost enjoyed arguing with her. She always had a point, unlike his father, or even Estel. She made him think, not just yell out random insults, though it did come down to that at one point, if his memory served him. But she continued to make a point the whole way through.  
  
He had finally put most of his questions to rest, so he lay down beside her. He put his hands behind his head as he stared into the golden canopy above them. He had taken to resting like this when he was tired, though he rarely ever truly slept any more. He dreamed, yes, but for and elf, that meant that your mind hadn't relaxed yet, and of late, his mind never rested, only his body was graced with such relief. But today, he finally felt his mind slip, dipping into a precious void. He slept for the fist time in a century...  
  
There you have it! It was kind of a really long flash back, but I hope his train of thought didn't confuse you (mine'll do that to people some times) but yeah. I tried not to make him out to be the lovesick puppy, and, I am proud to say, that even though he still has the pervertness that is quite common in all male species, the kiss did not enter his elven mind, and thus did not seem like a "teenager in heat." Happy now? I hope that that explained a few things, and I'm sorry that I keep going back and forth between Menla and Leslee, but when it's more from her view, I use Leslee cause that's what she calls herself, and when it's more from Legolas' P.O.V. I like to use Menla, because that's what he calls her. Also, for those of you who aren't familiar with the book and cheated by only seeing the movies, Estel, Aragorn, and Elessar are all the same person. I like having Legolas use Estel, because it shows that they were friends before Aragorn even turned twenty, so it kind of gives them a history together before the fellowship. So yeah, Ta! 


	6. Talk with the Lady

Disclaimer: sorry, rapidly running out of funny disclaimy thingies so I will have to tell you straight out, it ain't mine. Don't sue.  
  
WARNING: from here out, it's no longer humor/romance, but more like suspense/tragedy. Yeah, I know, I really went the opposite way, but if you didn't like Shakespeare, I suggest you stop now.  
  
Chapter six:  
Talk with the Lady  
  
The Lady called for Legolas while Menla continued to sleep. He was able to get up without waking her, and made for the royal stair where the Lady was waiting. He bowed low, and when he looked up her voice echoed in his mind, telling him to follow her. She gracefully led him to a separate clearing. There, he found it empty, save for a pool of water to one side, and a well- like structure in the center. He'd heard of this well before, and instantly grew tense and apprehensive. He stood, frozen to the spot, as she took out a silver pitcher and began filling it with water from the pool. She turned back to him when she had finished. "You know what I will ask of you, Legolas."  
  
"Yes, my lady, you want me to look into the mirror." She smiled slightly at him, and nodded. "But," he continued warily, finding he could not bring himself to look her in the eye, so he complied with examining his feet, "I do not think I wish to."  
  
"I know your fear. The memory of the fellowship is fresh in your mind, even now, yet I must ask you to overcome your fear. There are things that must be shown."  
  
He swallowed, noticing that his mouth was uncomfortably dry as he slowly nodded and stepped forward. She emptied the pitcher into the mirror and moved away so he could lean over it and look in. he had a feeling what to expect: his past, present, and future. He closed his eyes and braced himself mentally before looking back.  
  
He was correct in his thinking, for as soon as his own reflection disappeared, the image was replaced by one of that morning. It showed himself kissing Menla, and an unwanted surge of desire swept down his spine before he could stop it. He cursed himself for being caught off guard like that. It then flashed back even further to when he shook and accused her of being a spy, and he felt guilt swell up inside him. Why had he felt it necessary to be so cold to her? It flashed forward again, to her sleeping form in a bed only a few clearings away. She had a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She rolled over and mouthed something in her sleep. Though he couldn't hear her, he knew what she had whispered. Legolas...  
  
But the happy feeling that she had given him quickly disappeared as the image faded and reappeared as another one. This reflection was of himself and his father. Thranduil seemed to be yelling at him. Legolas made to say something in return, but he was backhanded before he could finish his response. The King pointed to the door, and Legolas was dragged out of the room by the palace guards. The next scene that unfolded was of himself again, a sad and depressed look on his face while he was leading his horse away from the borders of his land, the same guards glaring at his retreating form as he kept walking into the wilderness. He could feel the pain of his own heart now. The wrenching feeling of knowing that his own father had never loved him, had in fact hated and despised him to the point that the King had banished him from his home, his only source of life now that he had gone to sea shore and heard the gulls calling his name. Legolas...He would be forced to wander the rest of his long life, for there was no ship that would now bear him into the West.  
  
Legolas was so torn from these last images that he thrust himself away from the mirror and onto the ground where he stayed and did not rise for quite some time. The hot tears in his eyes were burning his skin as the seared their way to his chin, where they dropped onto the cold ground beneath him. His emotions were battling within him, fighting over which one would win: hatred, confusion grief, or guilt.  
  
Hatred finally won and he glared up at the calm elven form standing at his feet. How could she be so horribly placid after seeing what he saw? Did she not care? Had she no heart that his father would-did-hate him? His anger was further kindled at the thought of his father. He was ready to strangle any thing that moved in order to stay his rage, but luckily for the woodland creatures, nothing moved. His anger continued to grow inside him, and soon he found himself directing it towards the queen before him. Why had she shown him that? She was still fully composed, but when she spoke, her voice was fierce. "You must understand what will happen if you let Menla go. If she does not reach the borders of Mirkwood, everything you just saw will come to pass."  
  
"You have me send her to her death!" He stood, rage flashing in his eyes.  
  
"You must take her to your father or take her life into your own hands. You have a choice. You may let her die in either your hands, or Thranduil's.  
  
"She doesn't have to die!"  
  
"Yes, Legolas, Menla MUST die. She is human, and death is common for them. Even if you spare her, she will still be parted from you. You know this."  
  
He was silent. He knew she would die, just as Arwen knew that Elessar would die. But still...couldn't they at least spend her few short years together?  
  
"She would not want that, Legolas. You know that it would be wrong to force her into such a situation. You both would be forced to wander far from your homes, and Menla is in a strange land. Even if she spent the rest of her life here, she would die feeling out of place and homesick."  
  
"She already feels those things."  
  
Then why would you wish to extend her pain?"  
  
"I wouldn't be extending it-"  
  
"You would be prolonging it, delaying it at most. She is doomed Legolas. She WILL die."  
  
Something in him slipped in his mind, clouding his heart. His strong sense of duty returned to him, he knew she would die; she could at least die quickly. "Then she will die by father's hand. He is the one who wants her so badly, so he can be the one to take her." But he would still give her a chance.  
  
Oooh...the plot thickens! (taps fingers together like evil conspiring bad guy) hehe! Wanna know what's gonna happen? Okay, lean close so I can whisper. Closer. Closer. Okay, here's my secret...I'M NEVER GONNA KILL MY OWN STORY BY GIVING IT AWAY YOU CHEATERS! Hehe! Just keep reading to find out! ;P 


	7. Run

Disclaimer: since when did Tolkien look like a fourteen-year-old girl? And you call your selves fans...(shakes head in shame) tsk tsk!  
  
Chapter seven:  
Run  
  
Legolas went back to the clearing after his talk with Galadriel. Menla was awake now and was stretching as he walked into sight. He glanced over at her once, but otherwise completely ignored her. He busied himself immediately with packing and repacking his bag. Menla got up and walked over to where he was fidgeting and put her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. "Legolas, I don't think that bag can be pack any more ways than you already have." He could feel her smile against his neck and it took everything in him to harden himself against her affectionate touch. He couldn't let himself show any feelings for her, or it would that much more difficult to watch her die when the time came. He hastily removed her arms from his body and continued to repack his bag.  
  
She blinked and looked down at her hands, then at his back. "Wha'd I do?" she asked indignantly. "What happened?" he didn't answer, but picked up his pack and set it down by his bow. "Legolas, answer me!"  
  
He stopped moving, his back still to her. Now he would give Menla her chance. "Go."  
  
"What?"  
  
He balled his hands into fists. Her voice was ringing with her confusion, and it killing him to hear her this way. "Run, Menla. Go now. If you stay..."  
  
"Legolas-"  
  
"No! I can only give you a head start, but after that I'm afraid I will have to come after you."  
  
"L-Legolas. What are you talking about?" she asked as she started to back away from him.  
  
"I can give you an hour. Now go."  
  
"Legolas, you don't mean th-"  
  
"Go!"  
  
"Where would you have me run, Legolas?!?! I don't know how to get home from here!"  
  
"I DON'T CARE!" he yelled, turning to face her. She almost recoiled at the emotions burning in his flashing eyes. "Just go! Anywhere! Just leave this place!"  
  
"I won't leave you, Legolas. Not like this."  
  
"You have to!" he continued to yell, and tears sprung to Leslee's eyes. What had caused this sudden change of heart? Had he gone to an old lover while she slept? No, Tolkien had never written him a lover. It had to be something else. "If you stay here you will die!"  
  
"Legol-"  
  
"Your hour has started, now leave!"  
  
She still hesitated. She didn't really care if she lived or not, but she didn't want to go back. No, not back there. She looked into his flashing eyes, hers now blurred with tears. He was serious. This wasn't the same Legolas from that morning in the cave. This was the cold, determined assassin his father had turned him into. This was the elf she'd looked up at when she first woke up on Amon Hen. Fear welled up inside her, and she took a step back. He continued to hold her gaze as she slowly got the picture. He would kill her if she stayed.  
  
She got her backpack and quickly made her way to the edge of the clearing. She turned back to look at him. "Legolas?"  
  
He just stared at her.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
And with that she started to run.  
  
Muahahahahahaha!!!!!!! Suspence is such a horrid thing! Hehe! Keep reading! 


	8. Too Late

Disclaimer: you people really like rubbing it in, don't you? Come on, admit it! You know you love hearing me say it's not mine so you can laugh at me. Oh well, here's the next chapter.  
  
Chapter eight:  
Too Late  
  
Leslee ran as fast and as far as she could, tears still flowing freely down her cheeks. She tried her best to stop, because she knew that it would just make her more tired, and she needed all of her strength if she was going to out run Legolas, but at that thought she would start crying anew. She couldn't believe he was doing this. He had told her that he loved her, and she him. Why did he still want to kill her? Something had happened. Something he hadn't told her. He wouldn't just change all of a sudden like that for no good reason. Big changes like that don't just come out of the blue. But then again, he had hated her yesterday, yet loved her today. Maybe Tolkien had forgotten to write that he had a split personality. Or maybe he was just as confused as she was. No, he had looked too horribly sure of what he was saying to be confused. He really wanted her dead this time.  
  
She kept running, her sides and calves screaming in protest. She was a band geek, not a cross-country runner; her body wasn't used to such onslaught. She wanted badly to collapse and rest, but the pressing fear of his arrival kept her moving. She was running blindly, hoping to God that she wasn't going north or east, because any path in those directions would take her straight to Mirkwood, the one place she was trying to avoid. She thought about her plan of action. She could keep running blindly, and risk heading towards Mirkwood, but hopefully out run Legolas, or she could stop, and risk having him catch up, but point her self in the right direction.  
  
But WAS the right direction? West would take her to the Misty Mountains. She didn't exactly know what to expect there. She had no food supplies, save for that soda and cereal bars, but that wouldn't last her more than a day with all this energy she was using, and she had no way of catching food once she was on the mountain. If she went south, she could follow the skirts of Fangorn, then go east to Rohan, where she could sell something in order to get food and maybe shelter, but that was an awfully long way, and she didn't think she'd make it.  
  
But that was her best bet, so she slowed down, and looked up to see where the sun was. It was about five in the afternoon, and the sun was low on the horizon. She found that direction to be west, and was glad to find that she had been going south the whole time. She started running again, feeling a little better about her situation. She was forced to go at a slower pace, but continued to jog at the slowest.  
  
It was nearly dark when her body finally caved in, and she fell to the ground. She slept where she had collapsed, telling herself that she would only give herself an hour to rest. Her mind slipped out of consciousness just as a dark figure stepped into sight. 


	9. Captured

Disclaimer: how many times do I have to repeat my self? It's not mine. Don't sue.  
  
Chapter nine:  
Captured  
  
Legolas watched as Menla ran from him. Her words still rang in his head. Thank you...  
  
What had she meant by it? There was nothing to thank him for. He had only caused her pain and threatened her existence. He thought of how hurt and confused she must be, and that's when he lost it. He knelt down on the ground and cried so hard he thought he would vomit his tears if he kept it up. He wanted to throw back his head and scream. Scream at the world for being so cold. Scream at his father for forcing him into this. Scream at the Lady for showing him those images and hardening his heart. Scream at Menla for not running fast enough. But he couldn't. His emotions were too extreme to hide inside him, but it would kill him if he let them all shine through. His heart was broken; there was nothing left. The only thing he could do was wait. He would have to go after her soon, and both he and Menla knew it. They knew that she would die when he came after her. He had to.  
  
But not now. Now he was allowed to shed his feelings, slowly, one at a time. He would be empty when he finished, but he had to in order to keep his sanity when he would watch her die. If he still had emotions locked away inside him when he watched her bleed, they would flow unchecked and unchallenged, until they tore him apart inside.  
  
When he was finally numb, he noticed that he wasn't the only presence in the clearing. His stomach dropped at the thought of Menla coming back when she should have been running. He looked up, and was relieved to find the Lady standing there, rather than Menla. "Legolas, you have been here for nearly three hours with nothing but your grief and rage. You have given Menla her chance, just as you said, and now you must hunt her down."  
  
"She is not an animal," he said through clenched teeth. He hated that he still had emotions in him, but they were so great that they wouldn't leave him.  
  
"She is your Gazelle now, Legolas. She is your prey, and you are hungry. Go."  
  
He looked up at her, knowing she was right. He WAS hungry for her, even if it was in more than one sense. He had to go.  
  
And he did. He got up and slung his bow and quiver over his shoulder, and his pack over his other. He picked up her trail almost immediately, and followed in hot pursuit. He noticed from her chosen path that she was going wherever her feet were caring her, and that she didn't know where she was going. Good, he thought, his instincts taking over in the thrill of the hunt, This will make things easy. He continued to follow her trail, moving at a much faster pace. It was obvious that she couldn't run very fast, and her endurance was quite low compared to his. It would take him no time at all to catch up. He had only traveled for about three hours, when night began to fall. Her trail was quite fresh now, and he would soon come upon her. He slowed his pace a little, moving as quietly as possible, wanting to catch her by surprise. She would be easier to capture if she didn't know he was coming.  
  
He found her, her body finally giving in to the need of rest. He walked around her as she collapsed, and noticed that almost immediately her breathing slowed as she fell into a deep sleep. 


	10. Hardened Hearts

Disclaimer: I've said it once, and I'll say it again. I don't own lotr, so don't sue me if I haven't gotten the point across yet.  
  
Chapter ten:  
Hardened Hearts  
  
Leslee awoke to find the sun high above her. She squinted at the bright light, and went to rub the sleep from her eyes, only to find that her hands were tied. Her stomach dropped as she realized the truth. He'd found her.  
  
She sat up quickly, but almost fell over as her head spun. She looked around, and saw Legolas leaning up against a tree, his arms folded across his chest, his deep eyes staring at her. She swallowed, not sure of what to say. He was waiting for her to ask the obvious question, but she didn't want to know. She would rather die NOT knowing. But still he waited, so she complied and cleared her throat. "What are you going to do with me?"  
  
Yes, that was the question he was waiting for, yet he dreaded hearing it now. He knew as well as she did, what he would do with her. "I'm taking you to Mirkwood. My father will decide your fate."  
  
"And what would you guess my fate to be?" she asked cautiously. She wasn't sure if he still intended to kill her or not.  
  
He hesitated, not wanting his voice to crack with emotion if he uttered the words too soon. The silence grew, pressing in on them, until even Legolas couldn't stand it. "You will die, Menla. I do not doubt it. Can you accept that?" His voice was cold, but there was a hint of sorrow to it, as if he regretted the words, but whatever he was thinking, his face did not reflect it.  
  
She gawked at him for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was pulling a joke on her or not. If he really loved her, then why would he kill her? Unless the whole thing was a lie. He might NOT love her, but had simply said that to hurt her, play with her, before she died. She barely noticed as he knelt down in front of her until he cupped her chin in his hand. Her eyes focused on his, and questioned him. He firmly pressed up, closing her mouth that had once again been hanging open. "It's not polite to stare," he whispered, just as he had not two days ago. She whimpered a little at the thought of how long ago that had seemed, yet it was only two nights ago.  
  
Legolas' heart broke at such a pathetic cry. He knew that his face was finally betraying his emotions, but he didn't really care at the moment. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, and tell her not to worry, that everything would be all right, but as much as he wanted to tell her these things, he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. Because it wouldn't be okay. Everything wouldn't be fine. He found himself leaning close to her, so close that their noses almost touched. He sat there, mere centimeters between them, waiting. He wouldn't do anything she didn't want. "Legolas..." she whispered, her hot breath sending a shiver down his spine. She leaned just a little bit closer, not wanting to be the one to make contact first. She wanted to be sure that he DID love her. He wanted to let her know how he felt, but he was afraid. He had to keep on his mask in order to please his father. "Please..." Her breath sent another shiver coursing through his body. Just one more...  
  
Leslee opened her eyes to find Legolas' still closed. It had been a light kiss, but it was full of meaning. He really did love her, but why did he still insist on killing her? She turned her head, not wanting Legolas to see the look of confusion on her face.  
  
But he did. Her emotions were hard for her to hide, and they always seemed to shine through her face. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she didn't turn. "Menla...please understand, I have to do this."  
  
"Why?" She whispered, still not looking at him.  
  
No. He couldn't tell her why. "Trust me, please."  
  
"Why should I trust the one who hunted me down last night?" she asked bitterly. "How can you ask me to trust you after what you're doing to me?"  
  
The words cut deep. It was as if they were back on Amon Hen, before they'd kissed. Did she hate him now? He shakily removed his hand from her shoulder, and she closed her eyes. "I've tried, Menla. I've tried to fight fate, but I can't."  
  
"Once the threads of fate are tangled, they cannot be undone," she quoted, that scene from Inu Yasha coming to mind. Her fate was tangled with Legolas. She knew there was no fighting it. She couldn't undo coming to this Middle-Earth. She couldn't undo meeting Legolas. She couldn't undo loving him either.  
  
But she also couldn't undo him hurting her. She didn't really want to be mad at him, but after how he'd treated her last night, she couldn't help but feel betrayed. He wasn't telling her something, and it was deeply frustrating. "Why can't you tell me what's going on?" she finally asked.  
  
He stood up, "We need to get moving."  
  
"Legolas! Dime! Ahora! Aqui!" she yelled before she remembered that he didn't know Spanish. He cocked his head at her, and she would have laughed at his curious expression, had she not been in such a foul mood. "Tell me. Now!"  
  
He looked down at her, his inner turmoil reflecting in his flashing eyes. Finally, he reached down and pulled her to her feet. "We have to go, Menla," he said firmly. She clenched her teeth, ready to scream.  
  
"Fine," she said, deathly cold. She looked up at the sun. It was slightly off to one horizon. "What time is it?" she asked when she remembered that she couldn't look at her watch.  
  
"It's nearly midday."  
  
"Which means the sun is still in the east, so we want to turn around and go north," she said, turning in afore said direction, but speaking to herself more than to Legolas. She started off down the path she'd come down the night before, though she didn't recognize it as she went.  
  
He followed in suit, watching her struggle to walk with out the balance of her arms. She really was clumsy, even for a human, and he was slightly amused by it, but the laugh did not linger for long. He felt his heart sink lower and lower with each step, until it seemed that it resided in the deepest caverns of Hell. When he couldn't take it any longer, he let his mind take over his feelings, rather than his weighted heart, and he became numb as that thought came across him again. 'She is going to die, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.' 'Then let her die knowing she's loved,' his heart whispered in a feeble attempt to gain control again, but his determined mind brushed it off without a second thought.  
  
OMG that took a llooooonnnnngggggg time to get out of my head. Apologies, Jamie Star, I said I would get it up last night, but alas, sleep beckoned, and I could not resist. Ja ne! 


	11. The Anduin

Disclaimer: you know what I'm gonna say? Wow! You guys must have psychic powers! Or not...  
  
Chapter eleven:  
The Anduin  
  
Leslee trudged on, her hands coated in dry blood from where the bonds on her wrists had rubbed her skin raw. It had been a week since Legolas had come upon her, and they had long been out of the forest, following the Anduin River. It was late now, so they stopped to make camp by the river shore. She looked longingly at the running water. She had yet to take a bath since she woke up on Amon Hen, and she was sure she was starting to smell. Legolas noticed the look in her eyes as he glanced up at her while tending the fire. He felt bad for her, really. He hadn't let Menla untie her hands since that day he hunted her down, and since he had used elven rope this time, even the most jagged of rocks wouldn't cut them. He had hand fed her since then, every morning and night, and she hated every second of it, or so she said. He knew that his touch sent shivers through her body, but she was getting better and better at hiding it. She still had to replace her real emotions with fake ones, not being able to simply put on a neutral mask the way he could, but she was still able to trick him sometimes. This time though, her eyes betrayed her as she sat, yearning for the river. "If you wish to end this by drowning, go ahead and dive in. I'm not stopping you," he said, thinking he'd guessed what she was thinking, and hoping that his comment would make her quickly unenthused.  
  
She looked at him curiously. "I just wanted to wash, Legolas. It's been over a week since I took a shower, and I'm starting to feel...crusty. It's disgusting. Besides, I don't believe in suicide. It's a sin against God to throw away your life." He was relieved at this answer, though he thought over it for a moment after, until she stood up and went to the water's edge. She slipped off her sandals before sitting down and putting her feet in. They felt much better now that they had the cool water running over them. They were still quite sore from all the walking she'd been doing lately, but she was happy to think that they were toughening, and wouldn't cause her much trouble for the remainder of their journey. Legolas stood and walked up behind her. Leslee could feel him towering over her, and for some reason she felt greatly intimidated, even fearful.  
  
"I'm going to take off your clothes," he said calmly, but at his words her heart started to race, and her eyes went wide. She froze, not daring to breathe. She heard him sigh, and knew that he had sensed her fear. "I didn't say ALL of your clothes, Menla. I will simply strip you to your under clothing so I can wash you."  
  
She closed her eyes, relief washing over her. She swallowed and stood up. "Okay," she whispered. He came around to her front, and started undoing her pants. Once she had stepped out of them, he stopped, and cocked his the way he always did when he was confused. "What is it?" she asked cautiously.  
  
"I can't get your shirt or vest off without untying your hands."  
  
"Oh," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Well, it's up to you. You can untie me long enough to get them off, or you can help me get my pants back on," she stated, blushing a little as this slipped out. She couldn't believe that she put him into such a situation.  
  
Legolas thought for a moment, then unzipped her vest. He slid it back so that the sleeves hung around her wrists. He hesitated before putting his hands on her waist, and pulling her shirt up her body and over her head. He stepped closer, and almost rested his head on her shoulder as he reached around to untie her. She loved the warmth of his body so close to hers, so she enjoyed the moment, though it didn't last long. She let her clothes fall to the ground as he brought her hands around and tied them in the front. He slipped off his own tunic, revealing his well-toned physique. He kicked off his boots and got a washcloth and a bar of soap out of his bag. He started to lead her to the edge of the water, but she realized it would be easier to get in if she jumped, so she stopped and shook her head when he turned around. "What is it?" he asked.  
  
Without a word she walked up stream to a deeper part. It was a little calmer there, the current not so strong, and a felled tree lay about a fourth of the way out. She walked out onto the log and dove in. He watched her as she floated to the top of the water, lying on her back.  
  
Leslee kicked slowly, the current barely pulling at her. Her eyes were closed, the last of the day's lingering light falling warmly on her upturned face. She forgot about everything; her family, her fate, her bloody and throbbing arms. She even forgot that she was floating in a Middle-Earthen river with the prince of Mirkwood, who was about to bathe her. She was in a void, just floating peacefully in a vast sea of black nothingness that seemed to go on forever. Or so she thought until she felt something firm collide with her head. She opened her eyes to see Legolas grinning down at her, his sturdy arms supporting her shoulders, and his long golden hair flowing freely for the first time since she met him. She realized that she had floated into him, and had collided with his abs (six pack, might I add). She tucked her legs under her so that she righted herself, and turned to face him.  
  
He had busied himself with rubbing the cloth and soap together to form a lather, that amused grin still on his timeless face. She decided to ignore it, and kicked away to a flat rock, sitting about a foot beneath the surface. He came over, the water coming up to his rib cage, and just stood there for a moment, wondering where to start. She blushed a little, really uncomfortable now that she remembered that she was only wearing her underwear and bra, and he was staring at her. She turned her head in embarrassment, feeling even more heat rising to her already rosy cheeks. "Well this is awkward," she mumbled quietly.  
  
"Just don't think about it," he said kindly as he stepped forward and started rubbing her arms with the soapy cloth. "Sing a song or something, to distract yourself and take your mind off me." She couldn't help but think how scary his mood swings were. Determined Assassin one minute, Kind Lover the next. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and a song came to mind. She liked the song, since it was in a lower key, and she found it easier to sing, being more of a tenor than anything else. Even though she was technically an alto, being a girl, she loved singing with the guys, so she stuck with their parts. She started to hum the song at first, warming up her voice, trying hard to concentrate on remembering the words so as to forget what Legolas was doing. She closed her eyes and began to sing just as he started on her legs.  
  
"What makes you touch?  
  
What makes you feel?  
  
What makes you stop and smell the roses in an open field?  
  
What makes you unclean?  
  
Yeah, Yeah. Yeah, Yeah. Yeah, Yeah. Yeah.  
  
What makes you laugh?  
  
What makes you cry?  
  
What makes our youth run  
  
From the thought that we might die?  
  
What makes you bleed?  
  
Yeah, Yeah. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Yeah.  
  
Somebody told me the wrong way  
  
Somebody told me the wrong way  
  
What if I died?  
  
What did I give?  
  
I hope it was an answer so you might live  
  
I hope I helped you live  
  
I hope I helped you live  
  
Somebody told me the wrong way  
  
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Yeah, Yeah. Yeah."  
  
She finally opened her eyes to find Legolas' looking into hers. He had a sad look in them, and they looked more like pools of water than anything else. She was vaguely aware that his hands were resting on her knees, but she was so enthused with his eyes that she barely noticed. "Menla," he whispered.  
  
She remained silent and looked at him expectantly. She knew her voice would ruin the moment.  
  
"You're shivering," he said even more quietly than before as he came a little closer. She hadn't noticed, so she looked down at her now clean hands and arms. Her hands were shaking and her arms were covered in goose bumps. She lifted them out of the water to inspect them closer, but she was met by a cold breeze, and immediately plunged them back under again. He took her elbow and started to pull her to shore, but she shook her head, her freezing cold hair shifting over her shoulders, sending more violent tremors through her body. "No," she whispered. She was too cold to move.  
  
"You have to get out of the water, Menla. If you come out, you'll have the fire to greet you.  
  
"And the wind. I'm not moving." He slumped his shoulders slightly, and rolled his eyes. "You'll have to drag me out."  
  
"You asked for it," he said as he leaned forward, and slipped her tied hands around his neck. He had scooped her up in his arms, and was heading for shore before she could say a word. She gasped as he brought her out of the water, and held tighter to him, trying to bring herself as close to his body as possible, which had miraculously stayed warm in the cold water.  
  
The sun was down now, and the wind was picking up. Legolas set her down by the fire, and got a towel-like cloth out of his bag, wrapping it around her shivering form. He rubbed her arms to keep her blood flowing. "L- Legolasss?" she stuttered.  
  
"SShh...it's okay."  
  
She started to shake her head again, but he put his warm hands on each side of her face, not wanting a repeat of a few moments before since her hair was still sopping wet. Her skin felt like ice under his touch. He was a little scared, and he didn't know why. He knew that she would be fine, but there was always that shadow of a chance that she wouldn't be. It was taking too long for her to warm up, and he was really starting to worry.  
  
"Sh-shouldn't you gett d-dried off?"  
  
He blinked. "You're freezing, and yet you still think of me?"  
  
"How c-could I-I not?"  
  
He smiled and sat down behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She nuzzled into his chest, still shaking. She was always cold, and it always took her a long time to get warm again. After a while Leslee tilted her head back so she could look at him. "Are my lips blue?" she asked, still freezing, but not shaking so bad. Even she was starting to worry. He looked at her for a moment, then leaned forward and kissed her hungrily. His lips devoured hers and she groaned. She loved it when he did that, even though he'd only done it twice before.  
  
He leaned back and their lips parted, but he stayed close, his warm breath washing over her skin. "Not anymore," he said, and started to peck at her lips, almost teasingly, and at her neck. She was warming up pretty quickly now, he couldn't help thinking, and couldn't stop the smile from sneaking onto his lips.  
  
He would have continued, but he noticed that her breathing had slowed. He looked up to see that her eyes were closed, and her mouth slightly open. She had fallen asleep in his arms.  
  
Holy crap that took a LONG time to write! Sorry that I took so friggin long to post, but I DO have a life (shocking, I know) and was way too busy to post before now. The song was'Wrong Way' by Creed. Oh, and 'scary mood swings' was the best way I could describe Legolas in his OOCness, so yeah, I have to thank Naro for that. Okay! Lemme know what you think! 


End file.
